


The Death of Steve

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Evil Odin (Marvel), I took the mcu and norse mythology and put them in the blender, Loki (Marvel)-centric, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Retelling, Steve is Baldr, Torture, in this house we hate odin, retelling of the death of Baldr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: Through an act of jealousy, Loki kills Steve and causes the premise of the end of the world. Odin would have him tortured with snake's venom for eternity, but Thor saves him. Now Loki must go to Hel to retrieve Steve, or else they find themselves truly doomed.Or, a retell of the Death of Baldur





	The Death of Steve

**Author's Note:**

> This is a retelling of the Death of Baldr, FrostShield style. If you’re not familiar with the myth, it’s still understandable, but I went very heavily mix and match to fit the story.  
I also didn’t include Hela but instead Hel, Loki’s daughter who’s half-giantess and half-dead. Loki isn’t related at all to either Thor and Baldr/Steve, because it was getting too complicated with the whole “Odin is Loki’s father but not really, so does Loki knows he’s adopted or not yet?” so I used his mythology’s origins to simplify my life. I also changed Steve’s name for Svante because it’s more Viking-like, it’s short for Svantepolk.
> 
> I made a [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1De8txrLyoGXXncG5d5YJi?si=ERKSlujBR_W2VSQm7Q-9HQ) for this, if you would like to listen to it while reading.

Svante's generosity and kindness are no secret in Asgard and throughout the entire cosmos, beloved by every living creature that exists. Son of Odin and Frigga, he's the god of light and forgiveness, so good he radiates light whenever he goes. He's everything Loki isn't. 

Loki doesn't dislike him per say, he dislikes everything he represents. Never has he a bad word for anyone, not even for Loki, always in a jovial mood around him that irritates the trickster God even more. 

So when Svante mentions his nightmares predicting his demise one morning at breakfast, Loki can't help but rejoice. Finally, some ominous clouds gathering over the God of peace's light. Odin himself leaves Asgard to make a visit in Helheim in order to know of his golden son's true fate. Alas, his nightmares are true, Odin reveals when he's back, already mourning. 

No one asks for Loki's advice. He's not trustworthy, he's been told many times, his words good for nothing but to deceive the unlucky. Loki doesn't blink at the accusations, for he lives up to what is expected of him. It’s only in the dark of his quarters that he aches for otherwise. Loki's trickery is a balance to Thor and Svante's kindness. What would be the stories about, if not about Thor's prowess to reverse whatever malediction Loki has exercised on some poor soul? 

Loki watches as Frigga, the wisest woman of the cosmos, ponders for a full day and night, and then it's her turn to leave on a quest that, he learns, is almost impossible to accomplish. She figures that nothing can kill Svante if all take an oath to do him no harm. She asks every being, alive and undead and unliving, and every being swears to do him no harm. 

Asgard is the last location she makes her inquiry, and Loki waits patiently for her to ask him, a crease in his brow as a fallacious sign of worry. He's not worried, he's curious. No one can deny their fate, after all. 

Thor's reply is immediate, booming in the golden halls. "I'll never hurt him, mother, I swear to you." 

Frigga then turns to Loki, takes his hands in hers. She's wise and always has been the only person to see through his lies. 

"And you, Loki, will you do no harm to Svante?" 

"Of course." He leans down to kiss her knuckles, and when he straightens, he meets Svante's eyes over her shoulders. 

The people of Asgard confirm Frigga's words by throwing sticks and rocks at Svante; molten metals dripped on him and fire built under him; he's left unscattered.

Then they feast, as is custom after a feat, and assuring Svante's nightmares remain untrue is quite a feat. Loki sits beside Frigga during the meal, Thor and Svante choosing Odin’s side. 

He partakes in the festivities but doesn't drink much, nurses the same cup the whole night. The voices get louder as times goes by, and when everyone's inebriated, Loki innocently inquires to Frigga if everyone indeed has taken an oath for Svante's protection. 

"Only the mistletoe didn't, but it's so small and fragile, what harm could it do to our strong and smart Svante?" 

What harm could it do, indeed? 

Loki ponders for a few days over it. While the others go to on a hunt trip, he remains with the excuse to study some mysterious magical spells and instead goes to Midgard. There he finds mistletoe, perched on tall oak trees. He inspects it, the vibrant leaves and the plump berries, shudders when he bites into one and the bitter taste spreads on his tongue. He fashions a staff from the oak tree and shapes a few mistletoes into a head at its end, bending them to his magical will until he's created a new hardered fiber. Once he's done, he inspects his new creation, tests its edge. Blood drips from his fresh wound. 

This will do. 

He returns to Asgard undiscovered, right on the heels of the hunt party, and he uses the commotion to disguise himself. Conveniently, there's another feast made with the hunt trophies, where people amuse themselves at throwing various objects at Svante. The god of light indulges them with a smile that slowly grows bitter as the night thins out. Proving that he is now invincible is an honour, yet Loki recalls that he's never asked for this, that he simply mentioned his nightmares in passing. He didn't attempt to stop either of their parents from going on that quest, however. 

Loki finds an old warrior that happens to be blind, sitting in a corner, quieter than the rest. 

"You must feel lonely, being left out of the merriment of proving Svante's invincibility." 

"Aye, but at least I have mead for company," was the blind warrior's reply. 

"Here." Loki gives him the spear. "I will help you aim Svante, and you throw this branch at him." 

The other god brightens up and nods. He has a strong steady arm, and so once Loki tells him where to throw, the spear goes swiftly. It impales Svante through the neck, kills him instantly. 

Loki chuckles through the sudden screams, a few already leaning over Svante's body. He didn't think it would actually work. 

"Who's the perpetrator of this act?" Odin roars, furious. 

Loki, still in disguise, has started making his way through the room. "Where's Loki?" 

Of course the All-Father would immediately put the blame on him. Heimdall is fetched before he can leave the room, for he's the only one who can see true. There's no need to flee. He's brought to Odin by two guards, forced to his knees. 

"How did you commit such horrible act?" Odin asks, his only eye with nothing but hatred for him. No love for Loki. 

"With a spear made of mistletoe," Frigga informs her husband, her voice sorrowful. She's at Svante's side, his blood staining her beautiful dress. "It's such a fragile plant, I didn’t think…" 

"You doomed us all, Loki," Thor tells him. "For the death of Svante foresees the imminence of Ragnarok."

Loki stares at Thor, who’s full of good intentions for what life has brought him, and he grins, cold and sadistic. "So be it." 

He's brought in a smaller side room while they debate on his sentence. There's only four guards with him, and he could easily kill them, disguise himself as one and leave while he still could, but he doesn't see the appeal of it anymore. He's tried that already and his children are who suffered for his trickstery. 

He sits and waits, barely reacts when Odin barges in and stomps towards him. 

"I would ask you why you would commit such horrendous act, but I already know the answer. You're not worthy to have a place on Asgard." 

"Have I ever been," Loki spits, "and for my children to be treated this way?" 

"Children suffer the consequences of their parents' actions, especially yours. Now that you killed truth and light, Ragnarok is incoming, and I don't want you to be causing more than you've already done."

Vali, one of Odin's children and great warrior, enters the room, and he's pulling Nari with him, Loki's son. He starts panicking at his sight. 

"Why did you fetch him from Asgard, where I put him in security? He's a much better person that I'll ever be." 

At Odin's nod, Vali takes his sword out of its scabbard and opens Nari's belly like a fish. His bowels slide out and fall to the floor, splatter blood everywhere. Vali lets go of the boy who goes limp, on the verge of death. Loki blinks his body out of the guards' grip and manages to catch his son before he hits the floor. 

He's just a child… He cries out in anguish not for himself, but for another of his children lost. He draws magic from deep within himself and forces Nari's entrails back into his body, the wound magically closing, and he sends Vali against a wall when he means to approach. 

"You will not have him," he snarls at Odin and teleports Nari away, to safety. He then shapeshifts into a wolf and pounces on Vali, giving him no chance. He disembowels him the same way that he's done to his son, only stopped from feasting on him by Frigga's magic. He's thrown in an invisible cage where he thrashes around, filled with rage. 

"Enough!" Odin booms. "You're giving me no other choice, Loki. For the menace of your silver tongue, you shall be tied and have a snake spew venom on you until doomsday." 

No matter how Loki fights against the guards, Frigga has depleted him of his energy and he's panting hard, gasping for air. He returns to his Aesir form naked, clenches his hand over his pounding heart. Frigga gives him one last, disappointing look before she turns and walks out the door. 

He watches for an opening to escape while he's transported to a cave. A large rock stands in the middle and they tie him to it. Whatever they’re using, it has an odd elasticity, and he grimaces when he realises it’s bowels. 

They leave him alone. He tries to free himself, pulls with his full strength until he thinks his head is about to explode from the blood pressure, to no avail. The binds tighten painfully around his limbs instead of giving way. He’s stuck here.

A tree has twisted branches in the cave, one towering right over him, and there’s a rustle in the leaves. Something is sliding along the bark, making its way along the branch above him. Loki looks up and sees a long, big serpent coming down on him. It opens its mouth and a golden liquid gushes on his chest and dribbles down towards his crotch. He screams in sudden searing pain and he unconsciously tries to get away despite knowing there’s no way to escape. The liquid creates a path in his skin, through his muscles; it’s a neverending throb. The skin around it swells and tingles, goes numb when his body starts healing. He’s splashed again with another spray, this time higher, some drops hitting his cheek, and his scream echoes on the rock.

He loses the notion of time after a while. The venom doesn't come at regular pace and there’s no light coming in this part of the cave. He tries to track how long one wound will take to heal, but sometimes the venom hits twice at the same place, or he comes and goes out of consciousness. The pain never stops, it fluctuates on the front of his body until he’s numb from it, doesn’t remember anything else before that. His voice gets hoarse from screaming, he suffers in silence but for the occasional whimper as his body convulses from a new assault.

He falls into this numb state between consciousness and slumber, but sleep is a faraway respite he’s not afforded. At least the pain signifies he’s still alive, in some way. 

A drip is sliding down his neck like burning lava when it’s swept off with a wet cloth. Someone is standing between him and the snake, obscuring him, and Loki blinks a few times, his eyes swollen and crusty, before he can discern who it is in the darkness.

“Loki,” Thor sighs, holding a bowl that harvests the venom for the time being. With his free hand, he continues to carefully swipe off what he can of the venom, but his body is mostly split skin and scabies, Loki knows.

He can’t see Thor’s expression and doesn’t want to either. He can keep his pity to himself.

“Why did you do it?”

Loki swallows, but he doesn’t have any saliva left. Thor throws the rag on the ground and presses a waterskin against his lips. Loki drinks small sips, clears his throat. It’s not water but something sweeter and more soothing. 

“You expected it,” he rasps out.

Thor runs his fingers in Loki’s sweat soaked hair. “Perhaps I did, and I’m sorry for that. I found a way for your redemption.”

The small grooves on his face sting as they heal, but it’s already much less painful. “Redemption? I was to be believed Odin would keep me in this fitting punishment until Ragnarok.”

"Let me convince him, for your redemption will benefit everyone." 

Still holding the bowl, Thor tears at the bowels holding him, and Loki's back scrapes painfully against the rock as he slides to the ground. He scrawls to his feet, away from that bloody snake, despite his aching legs. Blood starts circulating in his limbs and he almost buckles from the sudden rush.

He gingerly accepts Thor’s help who steadies him. He looks over to the branch and notices the snake, still alive. With a snap of his fingers, he slices its head off with a vicious pleasure. 

“Feeling better?” Thor inquire, wrapping his cloak around him.

“Much.”

“Then come on, time is of an issue.”

“What for?”

“For you to save Svante.”

Loki glowers at him. “Surely you’re jesting.”

“I am many things, Loki, but I don't jest about such serious matters. Let’s gear you up.”

It appears Odin doesn’t know about Thor’s plan, for he walks in while Loki’s cleaning himself in a secluded bath in Thor’s quarters, out of sight.

“I was informed Loki has escaped. The guards were found unconscious outside the cave he was imprisoned in. Have you heard of him?” 

“Unfortunately not, father.”

Thor doesn’t even look remorseful when he returns to Loki with a towel. “Sometimes one’s reputation can be exploited for the better good,” he says.

Loki dresses up, wincing at his remaining wounds, the deepest ones having yet to completely close off. 

“So tell me again of your genius plan.”

“Svante’s soul is imprisoned in Helheim. If you retrieve him and bring him back to Asgard, you’ll prevent Ragnarok from upon us.”

A snarky retort is on the tip of his tongue, but instead he says, “You make it sound easier than it is. Do you believe because Hel is my daughter that she’ll grant me this favour?”

“Perhaps.” Thor gives him a serious look. “Perhaps she’s already fallen under Svante’s charms and will grant _ him _ a favour.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try.”

Thor squeezes his shoulder, and the fondness on his face makes Loki look away. “That’s all I ask of you.”

Loki teleports himself to Helheim, the land of the Dead. Having Hel as its ruler wasn’t either hers or Loki’s choice, but Odin’s, once again. The All-Father makes the decisions and, even if unfair and unkind, must be executed.

The realm is dark but not arrid. Nocturnal plants and flowers litter Helvegr, the way to Hel, and it’s cold. The purple-leafed trees are dense and tall in the dim light. He shapeshifts into a horse and starts galloping, for it’s a long road to his destination. He runs for nine nights through valleys and an eerie, desert scenery to reach Hel’s kingdom. He doesn’t stop to sleep or eat, his hooves hitting loudly the ground in the otherwise quiet realm. 

He hears the river before he sees it, the stream fast down a valley, disappearing into the darkness. There’s a bridge occupied by a Giantess. She stands as he comes closer, takes his first rest in so long.

“I thought a whole army was coming this way,” she says, “your hooves sound like thunder in the distance.”

"Because I am to see Hel at once," Loki speaks, still in his horse form. 

"Who are you to seek her?" 

"I'm Loki, I come to discuss of an important matter." 

“You want to ask her to resurrect a loved one. You’re not the first one.”

Loved one? Loki scoffs. “I wouldn’t put it in such words, I’m merely trying to prevent the end of the world.”

The giantess’ expression is hard to decipher, but she steps sideways to let him pass. “I wouldn’t want to stop you any further on your quest, then.”

Loki crosses the bridge, the wood creaking under his hooves, and he’s gone once more at the fastest speed, the sound of the river quickly vanishing. Mist engulfs him not long after, and only the stone road guides him forward. His harsh breathing is the only thing he hears for a long time, but he persists. He hasn’t come all this way to turn around at the first sign of danger.

A war battle startles him. He buckles when a skeleton runs through the fog in front of him, sporting a shield and sword. Echoes of battle fall on a side of the road that Loki can only see shadows of. He’s heard of it, fallen warriors spending their afterlife in eternal war. He trots forward, completely blind.

He almost doesn’t see the fence before he’s too close, and only his instincts make him leap over it. He lands on the other side and looks back at it.

He’s just passed the gate of Hel. 

The scenery is different here. The valley dips downward underground, into Hel’s domain. Glowing stalactites litter the way to her throne, where she is seated. Half-giantess, half-dead, she looks intimidating. She barely reacts at Loki’s appearance, but from the honorary seat, Svante lets out a small gasp. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t father visiting.”

Loki shapeshifts back into his Aesir form. He glances at Svante as he approaches and meets his eyes. He’s wearing a simple tunic exposing his arms and legs, his skin oiled up and radiant. He looks as handsome, his light dimmed out here, but he’s still the brightest thing in the room. 

“What are you doing here?” Svante’s tone is curious instead of reproachful, which angers Loki. Has he no sense of preservation, doesn’t care for himself? Loki also knows Hel doesn’t do well with insubordination, but to his surprise, she doesn’t scold him, merely cocks her head to assess Loki.

“My daughter, the cosmos is mourning the death of Svante, and I came begging for you to release him back to the world of the living.”

Hel scoffs. “So much for a courtesy visit. You’re straight to the point, this isn’t like you.”

Loki hesitates. It’s truly not like him, but then again, he doesn’t cause a god’s death every day.

“I’ve been proven I made a mistake by plotting for Svante’s death. I was blinded by my own jealousy and didn’t consider the consequences of my actions.”

“That wouldn’t be the first time, father,” Hel replies with harshness, and Loki dips his head for a second.

“I’m aware of it. Allow me to amend this one mistake of mine. Please.”

Svante watches the exchange in silence, but Loki is certain he has a strong opinion about how they're discussing his resurrection as if he's not there. 

Hel ponders for a long time, and then she says, "If he is truly beloved by the entire cosmos, then all should mourn for his loss, and only then shall I release him." 

Loki exhales, bows. “I’ll return to Asgard right away to inform them of your condition.”

He begins to gather his power to summon a portal, but Hel raises his hand. “No need for you to go back. I’ll have my messenger sent.” She gestures at Svante. “You’ll stay with Svante in the meantime.”

Loki swallows, tempted to finish the ritual and vanish away from here. Instead he lets the spell dissipate. He doubts there’s anything he could say for her to change her mind. He nods. “As you wish.”

She grins, and it’s a frightening sight. “It’s settled then.”

Svante gets to his feet, and his light blinds Loki’s for a moment in the otherwise darkness of the room. “Come with me,” he tells him, and walks out. Loki can do nothing but follow him through a hall with a high ceiling, the walls made of dark volcanic bricks. Now that he thinks of it, he remembers the domain is built near a volcano. 

He’s about to ask Svante as a way to break the ice when he’s pushed into the nearest wall hard enough that it cracks with the impact, Svante holding him there with a muscular forearm. He looks furious.

“I should kill you for that,” he growls, his eyes an intense blue. They stare at each other for a moment when Loki quirks an eyebrow with a smirk.

“I see you lost your charming, calm facade.”

“It’s not a facade. It’s you who manages to infuriate me.”

Loki places his hand on the arm against him, slowly pushes it away. Svante steps away with a grunt. “That’s fair. I would feel the same about the person who killed me.”

Svante’s anger morphs into sadness, and he sighs, brushes his hair away from his face. “What I’m wondering is, whether you did it to spite Odin, or was it truly for your sole amusement? We’ve grown apart over time, Loki, but I still remember a time when we shared everything.” 

He brings Loki to an underground garden. Flowers bloom without a sun here, under gleaming stalactites. White waxy petaled orchids with blood red stamens, bright yellow primroses, trumpet-shaped soft pink daturas and glowing ethereal white night phloxes are only a handful of flowers Loki recognizes as he breathes deeply the perfumed air. A beautiful bench carved in that same volcanic rock sits near a well reminding Loki of the Well of Fate at the base of Yggdrasil, the tree holding the cosmos together.

“Was it truly jealousy?” Svante’s voice breaks his observation, and he turns to look at him with a sneer.

“What would you know of jealousy? You’ve always been the center of attention, glowing with the world’s love even through death. You’ll be returning to Asgard in no time, have no fear.”

“Just as you’re unwilling to answer the question, you’re doing exactly so.” Svante drapes himself on the bench, awfully beautiful in this surrounding. It’s disconcerting how his attention is solely focused on Loki. He always has been the only one able to read him.

“If it makes you feel better, Odin gave me a fitting punishment. Only Thor’s kindness relieved me of it.”

“What was Odin’s punishment?”

Loki kneels down in the dirt to brush his fingers against the silky soft flowers. He shivers as phantom pain runs down his torso. “He had me tied to a rock and let a snake drip venom on me. He had planned for me to suffer until Ragnarok, where he probably would’ve forced my hand on siding with him. Well, according to the prophecy, we shan’t wait far longer for the end of the world. He attempted to have my son Nari executed but I wouldn’t let him. I won’t let him have another one of my children.”

He grits his teeth to stop a sob from escaping at the thought of his offsprings caught in Odin’s grip. Might he be the All-Father, he always preferred to serve his own selfish interests, and his obvious dislike for Loki giving his actions a perfect excuse.

“Although I won’t apologize for your outcome, I never was in favour of Odin’s decisions regarding your children, I’m glad Nari is safe. He always reminded me of myself when I was younger.”

That brings a smile to Loki’s lips. He remembers the both of them as children, free and careless and much closer before they grew apart when Svante began glowing up and Loki remained the same.

“He’s a brilliant young man. He shows much promise to best his father.”

He lets go of the flowers and grips his thighs, a wave of anxiety overcoming him at the thought Odin almost caused Nari’s demise. His eyes burn with unshed tears. Soft fabric brushes against his shoulders before Svante helps him to his feet, his eyes seeing more than Loki would like them to.

“Come taste the well’s water, it’s wonderful and will freshen you up,” he says. He guides Loki to the well. It’s almost overflowing with the crystal clear liquid. Loki cups some and sips, finds it invigorating. It smoothly runs down his throat and, as it settles in his stomach, seems to spread comfort all over his body. The ache in his feet fades away, and the deeper wounds that still hadn’t completely healed from the venom finally close up, the pain nothing but a memory.

Loki takes a deep breath, observes the beautiful flowers surrounding them and Svante, who’s also been drinking and some of it is dripping down his neck, disappearing under his opened collar. Loki swallows and summons fluorescent butterflies in front of them. Watches them fly around with delicate wings.

“It was jealousy that made me act so impulsively. Despite the fury running through you, you never let it have the best of you, and your suggestions are always met with interest rather than suspicion. I suppose I didn’t attempt to improve my reputation over time either. It would’ve done no good.” He closes his eyes, but tears manage to escape.

Damp hands cradle his cheeks, the thumbs gently running along his closed lids. Loki unconsciously leans closer with a small pleasured sigh. 

“I remember simpler times,” Svante whispers, close, “when you didn’t despise yourself.”

Loki recoils, but Svante doesn’t let go, his hold turning to a vise. “I thought about what I would do to you, what I would tell you, until I realised there’s probably nothing that you haven’t already told yourself, bound to that rock with the snake torturing you.” He relaxes his hands once Loki calms down. He gently swipes off his tears with his lips, kisses his cheeks tenderly. Loki grips his hips through his tunic as he turns his face, silently demanding, and Svante kisses his mouth sweetly, lingering with a pleasured hum. 

“How can you not hate me, after what I’ve done to you?” Loki asks him after, when they’re both settled on the bench, Svante’s glow warming him up. He has yet to let go of his hand.

“You’re here now, are you not? Mending your mistakes.”

“I am.”

And Svante gives him a smile, beautiful and compassionate and better than Loki can ever attempt to be. “Then it’s a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don’t know the myth, Loki disguises himself as a giantess and is the only one not mourning Baldr. Now, in this story, it means that Svante returns to the world of the living with Loki.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://cap-sweet-and-salty-sadness.tumblr.com/).


End file.
